A Series of Unlikely Events
Summary: While running through the Ministry in their attempts to avoid Death Eaters and a dark lord, something went terribly wrong. Fortunately, Harry is nothing if not resilient. Inexplicably in the past? Your adversary is now your classmate? Sorted into Slytherin? Bring it on. Harry Potter has totally got this. Series of one shots detailing Harry's adventures in the past.
Characters: Harry Potter
AN: I'm so so sorry for this...
ANx2: I wrote this in half an hour. I take no responsibility
"The Chinese use two brush strokes to write the word 'crises'
One brush stroke stands for danger
The other for opportunity
In a crises be aware of the danger - but recognize the opportunity."
John F. Kennedy
Harry had -after a long and drawn out panic attack in the Room of Requirement- decided to roll with it. 'It' being his current predicament.
Now, Harry wasn't a stranger to unusual and unlikely things happening, so in an odd and convoluted way, it was only a matter of time until something like this happened to him. 'This' here meaning running through the Department of Mysteries one moment and spontaneously finding himself in the past the next. Not just any past. Not an hour earlier or a day or a month. He was in the 1940s.
Even better? After being checked out by the Unspeakables and sent to Hogwarts under a false identity and a vow of secrecy, Harry had marginally relaxed. Then he was sorted into Slytherin -which okay he could sorta see coming- and when he sat down at the table he looked up to see none other than Tom Marvelo Riddle examining him from across the table. Only y'know like corporeal and alive and stuff.
Harry, like the incredibly brave and noble Gryffindor he totally was, had fled to the room of requirement in the hopes of panicking himself to death. Or at least that's what his body had proceeded to attempt to do. Instead, he'd come into this eerie calm acceptance. So what? Harry thought. Life threw giant piece of crap after giant piece of crap at him all the time. And now? Not his job. There was no prophecy -not that Harry knew what it said- and there was no Voldemort. Only a fifteen-year-old.
Most important of all, there was no Boy Who Lived.
So Harry said screw it. Until someone in the future fixed this he was going to enjoy himself in the past by doing the exact opposite of what Dumbledore would expect of him. Because Dumbledore was currently his least favourite person. And because Harry felt like being petty and spiteful, because he was fifteen, irritated, stressed the Hell out and lacked adult supervision. So there.
Harry waltzed into his first class the next morning, picked a seat at random and sat with his feet kicked up on the desk. He ignored the looks he got from most of his classmates as they filled in, though he made certain to shoot Riddle a giant toothy grin as he passed with a raised brow. Harry spent most of the class time whistling to himself and pretending to read a randomly chosen course book upside down. He thought it might have been Transfiguration.
The professor, some wizard with short blonde hair that Harry didn't know the name of, was apparently answering the question of another classmate.
"There's certainly nothing wrong with gaining inspiration for career ambitions" -Ahh yes, career talk- "From those closer to home. Our family and friends. Mr Jameson?" The teacher's tone was hopefull. But then, he had bee trying to get Harry to aprticipate and Harry had been pretending not to hear him.
Harry cocked his head. "Yes, sir?"
"Who is your favourite family member?" The teacher asked, with a pleased expression.
Without missing a beat Harry said, "My great aunt Calpurnia." A wide grin blooming over his face as an idea, a horrible idea, came to him.
His teacher nodded thoughtfully, perhaps thinking of any witches he might have heard by that name. "And what is she known for in the family?" A few of his classmates sat up straighter to get a better look. Curious about their 'transfer' student.
"Being burned at alive -twice and then hanged- in the 1700s. The story goes she set up great wicked bonfires and wild dances in the town square every night, bewitched the minister and enslaved the townspeople." There was an uneasy silence.
"Really?" Whispered the teacher, clutching his chest.
Harry nodded seriously. "Oh yes, but don't worry. My parents insisted I get a proper education first before I go about enslaving people. I totally have my priorities in check." Harry reassured.
"Anyone else want to share? Rosier?" His teacher asked, voice oddly high.
A boy with dark tight curls shook his head. "Honestly professor, I haven't got anything that can beat that."
"Anyone related to Grindelwald?" Suggested another student. A witch with long blonde hair and repressed smirk. "He's trying to enslave the world."
People snickered, some startled laughs filteres inbetween at the student's audacity.
"Technically he's just intimidating people into at least pretending to support him out of fear," Harry said as if he were an expert and not at all making this up as he went. "My aunt's followers were one hundred percent devoted. No curses, no threats needed. They'd have died for her out of their own free will. That's the sort of 'enslavement' she engineered. That is a true talent. Getting people to fall in love with you without having to devote any of yourself in return. The entire town committed mass suicide after she was finally killed." Harry informed them quietly, his face a mixture of sorrow and awe. "Did I mention? They lost the will to live."
"I think that's enough for today..." Said his teacher.
"Pity," Came a smooth voice to the left and back from Harry. He turned his head to meet the gleaming violet eyes of Riddle. "I was so hoping to hear more about his sociopathic ambitions."
Harry swung his legs down and sat up on his desk, kicking his feet, facing Riddle. "Ruling the world doesn't require sociopathy." Harry corrected. "But if it helps...who am I to judge?"
Riddle opened his mouth to say something to that.
"And that's it! Class dismissed!" Declared the teacher. Poor bloke had finally had enough. Harry didn't think he'd be willingly calling on him again anytime soon.
The class collectively moaned and hissed boos. Harry stood up on his seat and took a low overdramatic bow. "I'll be here all week!"
Rosier sidled up to Harry, tight dark curls glistening. Some sort of magical product keeping them that way. Or at least Harry assumed. Maybe he was born with super shiny hair. Rosier looked up at him from where he stood on the floor with one hand on the strap of his bookbag. "Just the week?"
Harry hopped from the chair and shrugged. "Or maybe even just today. Who knows?" He kicked in his chair and pulled on his own bookbag over his shoulder. "Life is strange. Things happen." Merlin did they ever. He collected his book and turned to the aisle. Several Slytherin students were standing there looking at him.
A nameless student stared at Harry. "You are so odd."
"Thank you!" Harry exclaimed, sending the student a beaming smile that left them sort of dazed.
Then those students straightened up and adopted more serious expressions. From behind a voice said, "Idiot." Harry swept around to look at Riddle, widening his eyes as if severely emotionally wounded, which got him a snort from an incredulous Rosier.
"Were you not entertained?" Harry inquired. The others were silent, looking between him and Riddle. Apparently Riddle had managed to become a mini-leader amongst his peers already. Harry really had no timeline for when that would have happened. Riddle appraised him while they watched, a very tiny upward pull of his lips appeared with a short roll of his violet eyes. Reluctantly amused, Harry interpreted.
"You're still an idiot." Said Riddle.
Harry decided that must be some sort of compliment in Riddle Speak, because the miniature Dark Lord sat beside Harry the rest of the day.
Thoughts? Comments? Theories? Questions? Limericks?
AN: Yes, that just happened.
ANx2: Want more one shots of this idea?
Ever Yours, Pseu